


laws in the wake of the behemoth called war.

by IITroyTaylorII



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Fallout Video Game References, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IITroyTaylorII/pseuds/IITroyTaylorII
Summary: [Name] operates on a set of rules, modified to suite their motives, yet they are rules nonetheless. Providing them with little in the way of comfort is the life that these laws have crafted. What then is to be done if not to revel in the chaos on the day that these aforementioned rules are finally and tactfully fractured. (Takes place in a universe where James left a bit later)
Kudos: 1





	1. the fundamentals

Law 1: “We are all born in the vault. We all die in the vault.”

Grim words etched into their memory since [Name] was just beginning to learn how to walk. Grim in their declaration of isolation. Grim in their solidification of their being certain bitter absolutes in this world. 

Law 2: “The Overseer is our shepherd, we shall not be in want, he restores our souls.”

In this hole In the earth, decorated with cold, steel walls, he provides them with comfort. A sense of clarity. A return of governance. Hail to he and all that dwell beneath him. Our carefully crafted savior.


	2. the witching hour

[Name] awoke from their slumber while the lights of the vault were still dim. They stirred for a bit, staring up at the high ceiling. After a few moments, they finally sat up, swinging their legs to the left side of the bed, slumping over a bit. They checked their pip-boy for the time. 4:06 am, it read. They let out a shallow sigh, ruffled their hair, and lifted themselves off of the bed. 

It shall be yet another night of aimless wandering about the vault. It was a bizarre compulsion [Name] had at odd hours of the night. It was as if their body were trailing something that the mind was completely left incognizant of. Each time they went on their little venture, a strange sensation possessed their very core. There was a tangible cause of their adventures…if one could even categorize the scampering around a glorified rabbit hole an adventure. Even so, they could never quite develop a sense of direction as it related to this sensation— some nights they were hotter, and others they were colder. 

And on this particular night, they were ice cold. Ice cold and yet they managed to be an eager explorer. Not eager in the sense of a pleasurable desire to actually be out here, but eager in the sense of agitation. They were ever so weary of these sensations. At this hour, they were ever so unbearable and yet [Name] was as far away as they could get from the source of these aches. It made their stomach churn. 

And then, just as [Name] was making their way to the upper level, a deafening screech rang out from an area of the vault that was concealed from them. A pain shot from the center of their forehead to the back of their neck, and down to their spine. Their vision distorted the world around them and then, it faded. 

Bizarrely, they awoke a few hours after dawn in their room with little indication of how they arrived there.


	3. uncanny.

Exactly one week had passed since [Name’s] incident with wondering through the vault after hours. They had mentioned it to no one, despite the unease that swirled within them at the thought of what had happened. If only they knew what was soon to follow. 

It was a day unlike any other. Not extraordinary by any means, no. More like the day followed its typical twists and turns, but things were slightly off. It was like a lucid dream save for the unlimited possibilities one would have at their behest. [Name] would look into the eyes of others and barely see a thing that day. Peoples faces would contort to show different emotions, but their eyes would tell no story. It chilled [Name] to the core. 

Did everyone in the vault change? Or was it their mental state? They were the only one who felt real that day. 

Then suddenly, [Name’s] thoughts were interjected. They overheard the familiar, galling voices of Butch and his gang. By the inflection of their voices, it was clear that they were harassing someone yet again. “Leave me alone, you damn Tunnel Snakes!”, a young woman’s voice frustratedly cried out. 

As much as [Name] would prefer not to incur the ire of the Tunnel Snakes, this conflict was inevitable. As were the previous ones, seeing as [Name] was Butch’s favorite target. 

Tearing away from their thoughts once more, [Name] turned the corner towards their classroom, coming face to face with the source of the commotion. Hearing footsteps, Butch’s eyes made their way to [Name]. And for the first time that day, [Name] almost saw something. Butch smirked at their blank stare. “Look, we got ol’ nosebleed here shakin in their boots!” All eyes were on them now.


End file.
